


Comfort Food (And Other Cures for Homesickness)

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Not Epilogue Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Charlie is homesick for Romania, but a chance encounter with an old flame starts to make things better.





	Comfort Food (And Other Cures for Homesickness)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for Luvscharlie for Wizard Love 2010.

Charlie hunched over the bar, concentrating on the pint in front of him. The images from a Muggle telly flickered from the corner of his eye as it broadcast a football match. The cacophony of shouting pub-goers yelling at the screen swirled around him, most of the words unintelligible. If he pretended hard enough, Charlie could imagine the cheers and groans were in Romanian instead of a mix of Welsh and English.

It was ridiculous, Charlie thought morosely, swallowing another mouthful of rich, dark ale. After so many years away, he was back in Britain. The Burrow was a relatively short Apparation away, if he wanted to see his parents. Holyhead was even closer; he was sure Ginny would welcome a visit, when she wasn’t busy training with the Harpies. And yet, Charlie had never felt so homesick in his life, even more than he’d been during his first year at Hogwarts.

He missed Romania. He missed his dragons. He loved the Welsh Greens and the Hebridean Blacks he worked with now; but the challenges weren’t the same, the risks not nearly as great. Neither species, for instance, were known for eating people.

One of the teams on the telly scored, bringing on a fresh outbreak of shouts and cheers. Charlie spared a glance toward the screen, not knowing which team had made the goal and not really caring. Football wasn’t Quidditch. Why, he’d heard some football matches ended with no score at all, and where was the fun or sport in that?

Draining his pint, Charlie looked at the empty glass, wondering whether or not he should order another or head back to the reservation. There was a pub there also; and they stocked Firewhisky, unlike here. He had the day off, and wouldn’t need all his wits about him since he wasn’t working with the dragons.

The decision was taken from his hands when the barkeep whisked away the empty glass and plunked a second, full one in its place. The frothy head wobbled at the top, threatening to spill down the side.

“I didn’t...” Charlie began.

“Courtesy of the lady at the end,” the barkeep said, tilting his head to one side. Charlie followed his gaze, stilling when he saw the woman at the end of the bar. He’d recognise that heart-shaped face anywhere, even though he’d last seen her three years ago, kneeling over the bodies of her husband and her aunt. Charlie had held her while she cried, not only for her dead husband, but for the aunt who had forced her into a kill-or-be-killed situation.

She left her spot while he watched, walking toward him and sliding onto the adjacent barstool, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Wotcher, Charlie,” she said. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Tonks,” he said, nodding. “It has.”

“I’d forgotten Mallwyd was so close to the reservation,” she said after a moment when Charlie didn’t volunteer anything further.

“I’d been going to Machynlleth,” Charlie replied. “I guess I was in the mood for something different today. What brings an Auror to an out-of-the-way Welsh village?”

“For the same reason you find Aurors anywhere. We might have caught several Death Eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts, but not all of them. Most have gone to ground in out-of-the-way spots like Mallwyd. We’ve had reports one was seen around here, so we’re looking.”

“I wasn’t a Death Eater, last I checked,” Charlie said. “I hope you aren’t buying me drinks on Ministry time, Dora.”

“No.” Tonks shook her head. “I’m not on duty again until tomorrow morning. I simply stopped in for a drink, and then I saw you. I didn’t even know you were back in the country. You’re at the Welsh reservation now?”

“Have been for the past six weeks.” Charlie finally drank a swallow from the fresh pint. “Apparently there was a mix-up of sorts, and the reservation has more trainees than there are trainers, so they shipped me here to help pick up the slack. Why they didn’t simply send more trainees to Romania or Sweden to balance things out, I’ll never know.”

Tonks snorted. “Bureaucracy at its finest. Kingsley tries, but he can’t fix everything at once. I take it you’re not best pleased at being sent home?”

“Mum thinks I should come home for dinner at least five nights out of seven,” Charlie said, making a face. “And at least three of those nights she has a guest of the female persuasion, hoping for a love match. She can’t seem to understand I _liked_ it in Romania, and I don’t _need_ a wife to ‘take proper care of me’, as she so subtly puts it. I think that’s half the reason why Ginny stays holed up in Holyhead. Mum keeps trying to throw her back with Harry so she can follow her ‘proper calling’. Ginny just wants to see the world a bit; she’s not ready for marriage or kids; and neither am I.”

“Oh.” Tonks fell silent, undoubtedly recalling the time Mrs Weasley had tried to match her with Bill even though he was happily engaged to Fleur.

“I’m a bit surprised to find out you’re still in the field, rather than behind a desk. Who watches Teddy when you’re out? That’s his name, right? Teddy?”

“Yes, it’s Teddy, and I’m supposed to transition to a desk job after the first of the year.” Tonks wrinkled her nose. “Mum watches him when I’m in the field. She’s glad she’ll only get to watch him days now, rather than all hours. He’s three now, and getting to be quite the handful. She’s hinted that it might be time to start dating again.”

“Saying a boy needs a father?” Charlie lifted a brow, receiving a rueful smile in reply.

Tonks raised her glass. “To meddling mothers, and the sanity required to deal with them.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Charlie clinked his pint against hers.

Tonks drank deeply, finally setting down her glass with a contented sigh, a hint of twinkle returning to her dark eyes. “So tell me, does this place have anything decent to eat? I’m starving. Oh, wait. You said this was your first time here, too. We could go to Machynlleth instead.”

Charlie shrugged. “We’re in Wales,” he said. “I think the leek soup is a safe bet no matter where we go.”

“Ah, but does it have lamb in it, or mutton?” Tonks asked, smiling. “Does it include bacon, or not? What vegetables are in it besides leeks? Just because it’s the national dish doesn’t mean it’s the same everywhere you go. I like my _cawl_ with bacon, personally.”

“Oooh, spoken in Welsh, even.” Charlie couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll be asking for _tatys_ instead of potatoes if you keep that up. And you’re in luck. I know for a fact there’s a place in Machynlleth that makes their leek soup with bacon.”

“Lead the way.” Tonks reached into her pocket and slapped down some Muggle notes. “Keep the change,” she told the barkeep, who picked up the money and visibly brightened.

Charlie followed her outside the pub, looking both ways before guiding her behind the building. “Do you know the way, or would you rather I take you side-along?”

“Side-along,” Tonks replied. “You know the area better than I do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Mmmm, I think I’m going to have to find excuses to come to Machynlleth more often,” Tonks said shortly thereafter at the restaurant where Charlie had taken them, dipping a piece of bread into her nearly empty bowl of leek soup, complete with bacon. “I’m almost disappointed more Death Eaters didn’t try to hide here after the War ended.”

“Who’s left to capture?” Charlie asked, curiosity piqued. “I thought everyone in Voldemort’s inner circle was either captured or killed.”

“Nearly, but not all.” Tonks’ expression turned grim. “Mulciber’s still out there, Jugson’s still out there, Lestrange is still out there...Rabastan, not Rodolphus. He’s in Azkaban. Anyway, Jugson’s the reason why I’m here. We received a report last week. I wish I’d known you were back in the country. I would’ve looked you up.”

Charlie swallowed a bit of potato and shrugged. “Seems to have worked out well enough, seeing as we’re here now.”

“True.” Tonks fished a chunk of lamb from her soup, regarding it thoughtfully. “Ever wonder what the Welsh name is for cock-a-leekie soup? I mean, it’s leek soup made with chicken; but it gets a special name known everywhere, while leek soup made with anything else is just leek soup.”

Propping his chin in his hand, Charlie watched Tonks pop the bit of lamb into her mouth, letting a slow grin cross his face. “Probably because when most people of our generation hear or say the word ‘cock’ nowadays, they aren’t referring to chicken.”

Tonks nearly choked on her lamb, her face turning bright red as she managed to swallow the bite despite her laughter.

“Don’t _do_ that!” she coughed, reaching for the glass of water Charlie helpfully poured for her.

“Spotted dick,” he said casually, waiting until she’d taken a sip, laughing when she spluttered and glared.

“Is that supposed to be a warning?” she asked, glancing meaningfully at his crotch. “Did you pick up something from a Romanian one-night stand, and I should stay away? Or are you suggesting your banger could use a good mash? Beef stroganoff isn’t doing the trick anymore?”

Charlie groaned, covering his eyes. “No more puns! Please!”

Tonks leaned forward, dark eyes glittering with mischief...and something else. “Look, Charlie. We could sit here and discuss the etymology behind British cuisine all night, or we could do something much more enjoyable, like putting those puns to good use and shagging our brains out. I don’t have to go back on duty until tomorrow, and neither do you. We’ve got tonight, and it shouldn’t go to waste.” She reached out, hand settling atop Charlie’s knee and squeezing. “What do you say?”

Charlie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He wanted to say yes. God, he wanted to say yes. Tonks had been the first girl he’d had a serious relationship with. They’d lost their virginity to each other. They’d stayed friends despite subsequent relationships, vastly different career paths, and thousands of miles between them. He’d been unable to attend her wedding, but he’d been there for her husband’s funeral.

It was strange, thinking of Tonks as a widow. She was his age.

She must have noticed his expression shift, despite his efforts, because her brows lifted in question, one corner of her mouth turning upward in amusement. “What, you’ve never bedded a widow before?”

“Well, no,” Charlie admitted, looking away. “It’s just...it’s only been a couple of years...”

“Three and a half,” Tonks interjected promptly. “It’s been three and a half years since Remus died. He’s been gone longer than we were married. There is a part of me that will always love him; but I’ve done my mourning. I’ve moved on. Besides, I thought you liked me.”

“I _do_!” Charlie insisted. “I always have, and I always will. It’s just that...I don’t want to be your rebound.”

“What makes you think you’re my rebound?” Tonks rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think we should have stuck with food etymology. I’d much rather have a few more drinks while discussing whether or not hard rolls are a raunchier food item than sticky buns. It might lower your inhibitions.”

“I have inhibitions? I thought I was being chivalrous.”

“I don’t want chivalry. I want to get laid.” Tonks leaned forward again, folding her arms atop the scarred table. “One night stand, friends with benefits, I don’t care. What I do want is to be with you, even if it’s just for tonight. If you don’t want to, just say so.”

Charlie didn’t reply right away, concentrating on finishing his bowl of soup. “Are you saying your cake has missed my frosting? Or that I have the best banger around?”

“Something like that. Maybe I just want to fondle your eggs in a basket. I thought you didn’t want any more puns.”

“I liked the last one.” Charlie grinned.

“I’m sure you did.” Tonks threaded her fingers through his. “I’d rather act out the puns. Your place or mine?”

“Mine,” Charlie replied. Tonks and her impulsivity had always been contagious, awakening a matching recklessness he hadn’t felt since leaving Romania. “I’ve a feeling my bed’s larger.”

They split the cheque at Tonks’ insistence, her fingers linking through his as they left the restaurant. Once outside she tightened her grip, tugging Charlie around the corner of the building and into the alley, where she pressed him up against the outer wall. Her free hand moved to the neck of Charlie’s shirt, fingers sliding down his chest to the front of his trousers, smiling when he sucked in a startled breath. Standing on her tiptoes, Tonks brushed her lips over his, the movement unexpectedly soft and shy.

“You do want this, don’t you?” she murmured against his lips. “My hands and mouth on you, you inside me?”

“More than you know,” Charlie whispered back, cupping her face between his hands. “More than you can imagine.” His mouth closed over hers in a clash of lips and teeth, plundering her depths, savouring the slant of her mouth and the glide of her tongue tangling with his. His hands moved over her shoulders and down her arms, fingers closing around her wrists. She made a muffled sound as he turned, reversing their places and pressing her against the wall, pinning her wrists against the bricks, one leg pressing between her thighs.

Ending the kiss, Charlie drew back, his breathing ragged. Tonks looked up at him, her own breaths uneven as she licked her lips and grinned. “What, you’re not planning to stop now, are you?” she teased. “Not after that?”

“Are you kidding? We’re just getting started.” Charlie pulled her flush against him and closed his eyes. “Hang on.”

He Apparated directly into his quarters, something the reservation frowned upon but didn’t forbid outright, although Charlie was sure he’d hear about it sometime tomorrow. Right now, he didn’t care, eyes slipping shut as Tonks’ mouth descended along the column of his throat in a fiery trail. He fumbled with the hem of her faded black t-shirt, glad when she lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head and off. Tossing it aside, he let Tonks do the same with him. The moment his shirt joined hers she wound her arms around his neck, trading feverish, needful kisses.

A couple of steps took them to his bed, their legs colliding with the mattress. Charlie pulled them down without a second thought, undoing the front clasp of her bra and sliding the narrow straps down her arms, where it shortly joined their abandoned shirts. Reaching up, he palmed her freed breasts, squeezing gently before rolling the nipples between his fingers.

“You didn’t have this tattoo last time I saw you,” Tonks said, straddling his hips. One finger traced the Welsh green on his chest, its body curled protectively around his right nipple as though it was a dragon egg. Dragging her finger to his navel, she stroked the Hebridean black similarly curled there. “Or this one. I like them.”

“Glad you approve,” Charlie said, stretching and shifting beneath her touch. The tattoos were recent enough that the skin was still sensitive. “I got them soon after I was first transferred here.”

Giving her nipples a last tweak, he released her breasts, lips quirking at Tonks’ whimper of loss. Running his palms down her ribcage to her waist, Charlie found and unfastened her jeans. She rose onto her knees, pushing Charlie’s hands out of the way and shimmying out of the heavy denim material, leaving her wearing nothing more than a surprisingly demure pair of lace-edged blue cotton knickers.

“Not exactly dressed for seduction, are we?” he chuckled while stripping off the bit of cotton and dropping it over the side of the bed.

Tonks glared, pausing in the act of undoing Charlie’s trousers. “How was I supposed to know I’d run into you after work? I’m not a Seer.”

“Does this mean you’re going to stop?” Charlie asked plaintively. She snorted in reply, yanking his dragonhide trousers down to his knees before pulling them off the rest of the way, where it joined the rest of the pile of clothing.

“Does this look like I’m stopping?” Sliding along the length of Charlie’s body, Tonks drew him into a slow, deep kiss, effectively cutting off any further questions. One hand moved between them, fingers curling around Charlie’s erection and stroking lazily. Charlie groaned into her mouth, pushing instinctively into her encircling hand.

Ending the kiss, Tonks nipped at Charlie’s lower lip and turned, straddling his body between her knees, her head between his legs. Charlie had an excellent view of Tonks’ slit, the folds bubblegum pink and glistening, the scent of her arousal tickling his nose. Unable to refuse such blatant invitation, Charlie parted her nether lips, tongue stroking her clit. The sound of her gasp was nearly drowned by his own muffled cry as she took him into her mouth.

It was difficult concentrating on pleasing Tonks, not with the way she licked and sucked at his cock, lips sliding along the underside vein, tongue swirling around and across the head, dipping into his slit and lapping the drops of precome. The vibrations from her own moans of pleasure as Charlie’s mouth moved over her only increased his pleasure while he licked and suckled at her slick wetness, tongue thrusting deep inside Tonks as she keened around his length.

His lips closed over her clit, tugging gently; and Tonks shattered, her cries muffled, her hands tightening over his thighs, her lips tightening around his cock. Charlie let out a stifled cry, bucking into the moist heat of her mouth. Sliding two fingers deep into her, he fucked her with the same frantic pace with which Tonks bobbed up and down along his prick, lips tugging again at her clit. Tonks mewled loudly and came again, her hips surging against his mouth. Her lips closed over the tip of his cock, one hand finding and fondling his balls and perineum, sending Charlie racing headlong toward incipient climax before he was ready.

"Dora, stop," he gasped. He pulled away, aching cock slipping free of her lips, moving his balls away from her stroking fingers, his lips and chin damp with her arousal. "Don’t want...to come just yet...want to be inside you..."

Grasping her hips, Charlie flipped Tonks onto her back and moved between her spread legs. He grinned down at her, seeing her spiky pink hair, her splayed thighs, the way one hand toyed with her breast, pulling at a nipple while she returned his stare with hot eyes and panting breaths and flushed cheeks.

“Fuck, Charlie, you’re gorgeous,” she breathed, legs widening further, hips lifting wantonly. “So fucking hot...”

"You look pretty fucking hot, too," he agreed, and thrust smoothly into her, filling her, eyes squeezing shut as she clenched and unclenched around him, rippling all along his buried length, so tight, so good, so amazing. Charlie had missed this, missed _her_ , more than he’d believed until this moment.

"Move, dammit," Tonks demanded. "Fuck me, Charlie, fuck me like you mean it. I want to still feel you tomorrow when we’re finished."

“That hard, huh?” Charlie smirked and began moving above her, deliberately keeping his thrusts slow, measured. Tonks whimpered at the slow, sweet friction created between them as he rocked over her, snapping her hips against his, wordlessly urging him to go faster. Her legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his arse, fingernails gripping his shoulders as he stubbornly set the pace to their lovemaking.

"Missed you, Dora," he said raggedly, his thrusts sinking deeper. "So damn beautiful."

Tonks smiled, letting her nails graze downward from his shoulders to his chest, pinching his nipples between her fingers. He breathed in sharply, hands curling around her hips, his head falling back on a low groan. Drawing back, he plunged into her again, harder and faster, one hand letting go long enough to slide between their writhing bodies, finding her core and circling.

"Charlie..."

"Come for me, Dora. I want to see you come for me again." Charlie's hips flexed, pounding even more deeply into her, his fingers tracing relentlessly over her clit. Tonks let go, her cries full-throated, echoing within the bedroom, sharp fingernails raking Charlie’s shoulders. They sank deep into flesh, making him hiss as she climaxed yet again, squeezing him in a pulsing, constricting vise. Charlie swore under his breath, overwhelmed by sensation, by the need to spill into her, pounding into her again and again, drawing out her orgasm even as he rapidly approached his.

 

He stiffened with a choked cry, gasping and panting as he spasmed deep within her, groaning when she tightened along his length, squeezing every last drop from him before he softened. Tonks caught him as Charlie collapsed atop her, fingers stroking through the soft, fine hair at his temple, his head pillowed on her breasts.

“What time do you have to go back tomorrow?” he asked, still breathing hard. “Think you can stay for breakfast?”

“Depends. Will there be sausage?” Tonks asked drowsily, and giggled.

“Wench.” Charlie rolled to one side, pulling Tonks flush against his chest, his cock nestled between her arse cheeks. “Of course there will be sausage.”


End file.
